


and, so, we were meant to be

by a1hobi



Category: X-Men (Movieverse)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-26
Updated: 2018-12-26
Packaged: 2019-09-27 12:42:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17162189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a1hobi/pseuds/a1hobi
Summary: Charles began to wake, fighting through a sleep addled mind as he rolled about the bed, and in a swift, smooth motion, the cream quilt slowly slid down the side of the bed. The morning sunlight seeped in through the airy, almost translucent curtains, tracking a warm trail across the bedroom floor. Charles was conscious, barely lucid, yet the comfort of a body next to him was not missed. Erik laid about, still, quiet and asleep, and Charles slowly turned to observe him, attentive to the tandem of his breaths, Charles’ mind lulled by the calming rhythm.





	and, so, we were meant to be

**Author's Note:**

  * For [manic_intent](https://archiveofourown.org/users/manic_intent/gifts).



> well here it is, first ever attempt at writing something longer than 1000 words. my inspiration is fickle and must be exploited when present. the holidays are here so i finally had enough free time to write something up, hopefully it isnt too terrible. enjoy!

\-----1.0-----

Charles began to wake, fighting through a sleep addled mind as he rolled about the bed, and in a swift, smooth motion, the cream quilt slowly slid down the side of the bed. The morning sunlight seeped in through the airy, almost translucent curtains, tracking a warm trail across the bedroom floor. Charles was conscious, barely lucid, yet the comfort of a body next to him was not missed. Erik laid about, still, quiet and asleep, and Charles slowly turned to observe him, attentive to the tandem of his breaths, Charles’ mind lulled by the calming rhythm.

Charles rarely saw him this relaxed and therefore selfishly relished in Erik’s momentary peace – a stark contrast to the cold and uncaring lines that often marred his features.

Most often than not, both Charles and Erik found themselves at odds. Hurling hurtful and reproachful words at one another. A once burning love had fizzled out embarrassingly fast, it had been barely three months since both had exchanged vows – had professed an undying love to one another.

It was quite laughable, Charles thought, how quickly their bond had become one so suffocating both found themselves choking – seeking an escape at any turn. Erik found his in his work. Charles found his in another country, far away from the pain brought about by Erik’s growing indifference.

Charles justified it as more than a cowardly escape, he was protecting himself. Away he went halfway across the globe to a property gifted by his parents, an idyllic little villa tucked away in Salerno, among the greenery perched upon a hill it sat, yet now Charles was no longer alone as Erik had arrived the previous afternoon. Silent, astute, and beautiful as ever – Charles felt himself crumble at the sight. The hatred with which he regarded Erik long gone, in one fell swoop, with something as simple as a glance.

He berated himself for the weakness, but Erik always was, and would always be, more than just a lover. Their connection forged at the most basic and primal portions of his soul, the stain on the inside of his wrist a crude reminder of just how much he was of Erik, and how much Erik was of his in return. Mate forever, but the mark wasn’t a guarantee of everlasting love, merely a tie – a whisper of reassurance for what would ultimately be a blind leap of faith, and therefore, the question of whether Erik still burned for him was one that Charles found too painful to ask himself.

But now, confronted with Erik, Charles was left at a loss. Wary, and lost between his love and his disdain and self-loathing, pathetically basking in Erik’s presence, in the notes of his scent carried from room to room, in the tenor of his voice; in the way he was just now, asleep and breathing ever so lightly. Near Charles, present – yet so foreign, yet so far away.

\-----2.0-----

Charles had been trying to read the same passage for the past thirty minutes, more so staring at the page and letting the words blend into one single monstrosity. He felt distracted, brimming with some unknown energy beneath his skin. As of late, his resolve to disappear had begun to dissolve. Of course, he would not admit to this, yet spending the past week in Salerno had done some wonders to his psyche. Away from the New York, he felt quieted in the countryside – the sleepy Italian neighborhood a welcome contrast to the buzzing feverishness of the metropolitan monster back in the states.

He’d just begun getting settled, yet the pull back to another life of another time was ever present and constant. Just as he pondered the possibility of returning, the doorbell rang, interrupting Charles’ brooding. He got up from his desk chair and walked out of his study towards the front door, passing through a modest hall decorated with frames of art in hues of warm browns, blending into the white of the walls and the blazing cherry of the wood floors.

A light breeze ran through the living room from an open window, settling a brief chill as Charles crossed the room towards the door. Another couple of light knocks ran abuzz as Charles neared, turned the knob, opened the door and came face to face with the life he had left behind.

“Erik?” Charles was incredulous. Speechless and quite honestly, for some odd reason, felt abashed, running a flush that warmed him from his head to his toes, and likely washed him in a deep scarlet red.

“Charles,” Erik whispered, mirroring Charles’ disbelief. “I have been looking for you!”

Erik reached out, tried to hug him but Charles, grown awry of Erik, moved aside and evaded the familiarity. Erik recoiled at his action, a brief glimpse of hurt apparent on his face. Charles had to fight himself not to reach out, not to comfort Erik and erase the frown that marred his elegant features.

“What is it that you want Erik?” Charles spat, with more bite than he had originally intended.

“Won’t you invite me in?” he replied, with a hopeful cadence to his request.

The breeze had grown from a pleasant cool to a chilling freeze as the sun began to descend on the horizon, the sky washed in a deep orange, the rays casting an ethereal glow on Erik, the set of his shoulders, his day-old clothes, smelling still of recycled airplane air. The lone suitcase, the haphazard outfit, a single white cropped button down and a pair of gray wrinkled trousers – Charles had just now noticed the urgency that Erik was emitting, the sense of a rush and a creeping crash with the beginning notes of calming relief that Charles began to feel as well. Charles found no reason to deny him.

“Of course, come in,” Charles moved from the doorway and showed him in. Erik knew his way around, they’d spent their honeymoon here. Charles was beginning to question if coming here had been a grave mistake after all.

As Erik entered, he soon disappeared past the main hallway, likely seeking the ground floor toilet. Charles wondered if the urgency had been for him, or if it had been Erik broadcasting his desperate need to relieve himself. Nonetheless, in an effort to postpone what was going to inevitably be Erik’s confrontation, Charles made a beeline for the kitchen, deciding that the island would serve well to put some distance between them.

Not long after, Charles heard Erik’s steps coming up the hallway, towards the entry of the kitchen, his back coiling in nervous anticipation.

  
“Found the restroom well?” It was a petty remark. Charles was not one above them. To his disappointment, Erik didn’t bite, and ignored the quip.

“Charles, I’m sorry.”

Well, that was unexpected, Charles thought. Erik was tired. That much was evident, yet his apology was absent of his exhaustion. Clear, direct – yet still managing to be earnest in its briefness.

“Erik, I cannot just forgive and forget, there is so much--”

“Charles,” a hint of exasperation, “Charles please, I do not expect you to forgive me now or ever, but can you please hear me out.”  
Charles pondered, stewed the idea and wondered if he should let Erik continue.

“I can feel your skepticism.” That was… also not expected. Erik was full of surprises today.

“You can what?”

“You’re broadcasting Charles,” that was not intended, now realizing that Erik’s presence was wearing his defenses thin, “and you’re not being as quiet as you think,” Erik said with conviction, not a hint of snide sarcasm as he looked straight at Charles, not wavering for a second.

“The reason I withdrew a few months back was because I lost myself.” Erik’s eyes shone with blatant honesty, Charles fought hard against himself, fought hard against Erik. “I lost myself in us and I panicked.”

“Erik you and I both know that’s a piss poor excuse,” Charles felt the edge of anger’s blade begin to break skin, felt it settle in him.

“You abandoned me,” Charles whispered, voice at the edge of breaking, tears welling up in his eyes. He pushed them away and leaned against the islands’ marble top, traced the web-like lines in hopes of a distraction. “You took my devotion, my hope, my love – left me in pieces and you abandoned me.”

“I know,” pain, a bone-deep ache, “I know Charles and I am so sorry.”

\-----3.0-----

Charles retreated from the kitchen and made his way towards the living room no longer able to remain in the same room as Erik. He’d felt pain, a hollow ache that started in his chest and made its way throughout the rest of his body, he wasn’t able to bear it. Erik had opened himself, let Charles in for the first time in months and Charles basked in it, remembering his vows to share their happiness and their pain with equal fervor. He was confused now. The uncomplicated disdain he’d become accustom to was long gone and replaced by an insipid need to mend their partnership.

He thought himself cynical for so easily caving to Erik. Months of indifference and all it took for Erik to finally be honest was Charles leaving him. How very cliché.

  
He sat on the loveseat by the fireplace, buried himself into the blankets in hopes of disappearing for a moment. Thankfully Erik had not followed him here, though surely it wouldn’t be long before he came looking for him. He took this momentary peace to think and look back, think on the memories of their young love and how rapidly they’d become close.

He thought of the months after the marriage, the first words of doubt, whether they were too young for this after all. Soon after came the fights, the helplessness, the inability to tell where one began and the other ended. With bonded couples who were also marked mates there were unspoken dangers that came with the relationships. If the couple lost sight of who they were, a numbing blindness would follow as the individuals would find it near impossible to tell what emotions were their own, which were their partners, and which were not real at all.

They’d driven each other close to madness, suffocating one another, seeking solace and a sense of reality as far away from one another as possible. Erik left first, traveling so much for work that Charles rarely ever saw him. Charles wouldn’t forget that.

So, Charles decided to beat Erik to the punch, packed up his bags and quite dramatically left a letter, asking Erik for a divorce, and now here he was, desperate to mend.

Charles, much as he begrudged Erik, found himself wishing to reconcile as well. He was afraid though, afraid that perhaps this wasn’t what he wanted, and it simply was Erik’s desperation influencing him.

In the far recesses of his mind, Charles began to register the soft padding of Erik’s footsteps moving up the hallway. “Charles, may I join you?”

The sun had completely gone down by now, the living room dark and lit only the by glow of the fireplace, casting dark shadows across Erik’s lithe form at the entryway.

Charles had been brooding and pitying himself for the better part of the evening, no less sure of what he wanted from Erik and for himself, still just as lost as he’d been as when he’d seen Erik at his doorstep. Erik moved slightly from his place, tentatively took steps nearing Charles, almost begging for permission.

“Tell me what I can do,” Erik pleaded, _to make this better, to gain your trust_ gone unspoken, but nonetheless there, present in the darting of his eyes, the small tremor that shook his hands.

“Come sit with me Erik.”

Erik sat next to him on the couch, this time he kept a safe distance away from him. Charles felt hurt at just how much they had lost, and in that thought, he realized that it wasn’t just Erik that wanted what they’d had back.

Erik visibly soothed at the changing tide, a truce of sorts – the apprehension and skepticism Charles radiated now replaced with a welcoming acceptance. A sense of hope. He turned to look at Charles, searching perhaps, looking for an affirmation that this was real, seeking a sign that it was okay to stay. So, Charles gave him one, reached out, palm up, inviting Erik to take his hand.

  
“You’re warm.”

“And you’re quite cold, my friend.”

\-----4.0-----

They spent hours like that, holding hands and speaking their minds, clearing any misconceptions between them, trying to patch the pain and distress that plagued their relationship.

Erik grew bold, scooted closer, stared at Charles with open, unabashed want – graduated from one hand to two. Charles didn’t resent him for it, his own desperation mounting in equal amounts, too distracted by his wants to diplomatically extricate himself from the forward advances.

“Come with me Erik.”

Charles stood but kept his grip on Erik’s hand firm.

Charles led him out of the living room, into the hallway, up the stairs to the master bedroom. To call it their room felt dangerous, their newfound peace premature in its healing, the skin still tender where the wounds had just begun to scab. Nonetheless, Charles’ blood soared with every step, brimming with an anxious excitement that paralleled their escapades as a young couple. Learning about this new Erik and rediscovering himself in the process made Charles excited for the time to come, the whispers of doubt tamed by his curiosity. He felt immune to fear, the possibility of disappointment or failure could not penetrate Charles’ mind, all he saw was Erik, his now warm hand, his pulse, just how real he was. Just how real they both were.

Erik’s breathing had begun to deepen, Charles could feel his pulse, racing with a fervor to match his own. Once in the room, Charles turned around, and devoid of any reservations, let himself openly ravish Erik.

They’d been together long enough to know what the other liked, what unwound them at the seams. Their separation had only emboldened the need to meet this familiar release, away the clothes went, and soon they were in bed, seeking each other’s warmth, syncing themselves in a loop of pleasure and lust. In between grunts and whimpers their connection reignited, and soon their mutual climax followed, bathing them in contentment, a soothing peace overcoming their previous animosity.

They laid in bed, awake, with a cooling breeze from a nearby window drying the sweat pooling on their skin. Erik reached out for Charles’ hand, held it firmly between his palms and brought it up his mouth, kissing his fingers – one smooth peck at a time. They both fell asleep like that, with Charles’ head on Erik’s firm chest, wrapped in each other’s arms.

Well into the night, Charles stirred, the sense of Erik’s thoughts waking him.

“Thank you, Charles.” Erik said into the darkness. He must have heard him wake.

“For what?”

“For giving us a chance.”

Charles looked up at him, stared into Erik’s eyes, felt the edge of a precipice right before him.

“Let’s not muck it up this time.”

Erik smiled wide, brimming with happiness. Charles felt himself bathed in it, felt himself leap with Erik.

**Author's Note:**

> alright, so i am weak for soulmate AUs and i am new to the charles/erik fandom. you all can probably tell from my constant reference to scenes from the movies. i dont read comics so i am not sure if the dynamic is any different, apologies if that is the case. i saw that airplane scene from DOFP so many times it is probably imprinted forever to the inside of my skull, love me some gut-wrenching angst. 
> 
> anyways, if there are errors or if the resolution feels a bit rushed, sorry for that. i tried to dive deeper but i always end up writing these weird character studies rather than interesting plots. i am working on getting better! i hope readers like it, thank you for making it to the end.


End file.
